by Jeff Geiger

cool                                                           dark

wet                                                            drip

a  d  i n  g  glow


illuminating the blue cave

but only the center not the             exit

stony path snakes over



stalagmites                                         stalactites

stalactites                                           stalagmites

are natural jail bars in this mouth of madness

—but then—

another glow gets                           BRIGHTER

the moon is the pupil of the cave's eye

flotsam, and jetsam litter the spirit level like failed escapees

but she steps over the wooden bodies and night air warms her

rows of lumber stretch like fingers from the cave face into the water

she is the ghost that walks

clouds shift and blink the eye

she is still free

crossing the sandy flesh she runs her weak legs to the mountainside


rocks                                                    light

grass                                                    birds

more rubble than road but the horizon calls

to her left

         this old house

                    a new landmark

                               but decayed life

wind and rotation move her along

a valley   gully   path   direction

they point to a new eye

                              new color—red

on a new spire in a new city

lost and found

a new hope?

or old despair?